by D. B. James
Bliss.
Complete and utter bliss.
The next twenty minutes are spent soaking in the bubbles until the water starts to chill. Standing, I pull the plug and turn on the shower to rinse off and wash my tresses. I wonder what Case will think of the shorter cut? Having stopped in to the salon again last week, I had Monica take some more length off.
Flinging open my suitcase, I inspect the few clothes I brought along. After debating for a few minutes, I decide to wear the shirt Michael had made from my wedding dress. It’s beautiful with its satin covered buttons lining the back, its off the shoulder look covered by lace. Looks country, but classy and I’ve yet to wear it. It fits perfectly as I knew it would. Not knowing if we’re going to be doing a lot of walking today, I opt for my comfy broken-in hot pink Converse over stylish sandals. Comfort over style wins every time.
Sitting down on the bed, I shoot off a quick text to Case. He’s probably still asleep. If I had the chance to be, I’d be sleeping still.
Me: When would you like to meet up today? I’m heading off to Starbucks in a few. I don’t have to check out until 11 a.m. If you don’t want to come here, I can plug your address into my GPS.
Am I being too excessive? Asking to meet him at his place? It is quite nervy, right? But he does have the next few days off and I’m in town. His town. Not to mention the fact I’ll be staying with him. I’m always second-guessing myself, but I already hit send. It’s too late now.
Case: I never say no to coffee. Which hotel are you staying at? I’ll meet you at the nearest Starbucks in twenty.
What? Who invited him to coffee? I’m not ready to see Case yet. Am I? Hell, no. On one hand, I may never be ready, but on the other hand, I also need to jump right in.
Me: Fine. My coffee plans were solo, but for you, I’ll make an exception.
There, first step taken. Taking a deep breath, I wait for his reply.
Case: Alright. I’ll be there, extremely excited to be having coffee with you. And spending the next couple of days together. Did you decide what you wanted to do today? Besides the bats.
Me: Nope. We can discuss in twenty.
Me: Oh, you may need the hotel name…it’s The Driskell by Hyatt.
Case: I know the place. I’m counting down the minutes.
I can’t stop the smile from spreading across my face. I wouldn’t want to if I could.
It’s nearly thirty minutes later, instead of twenty, when I walk into Starbucks. Case has already claimed a spot near the front on one of the sofas provided for customers to chill. Waving to him, I silently let him know I’m ordering before I meet him to sit down.
Placing my order for an iced caramel macchiato, I make my way over to Case while waiting for the barista to finish crafting my drink. He stands as I approach the couch.
Such a gentleman.
“Hey, mo ghaol. It’s great to see you.” He leans in closer, placing a kiss upon my cheek. “It feels like ages since I’ve lain my eyes on you. You’re stunning. As beautiful as my memory recalls,” he compliments.
Smiling at his comments, I take a moment to bask in the happiness I felt when his lips touched my cheek.
“You don’t appear bad yourself, you clean up well, Case,” I admit.
“Order for Tenley,” the barista says from near the middle of the shop.
Case takes off to grab my drink while I sit down on the couch and make myself comfy. I’m already drooling at the thought of my iced brew hitting my tongue. My coffee is the one thing that can make me happy every single day. Regardless of what’s going on in my life, my love affair with coffee has never changed.
Handing me my iced deliciousness, he takes a seat right next to me. Not on the other side of the couch, but next to me all up in my business.
“What does mo ghaol mean?” I ask.
“You’re not ready to know the meaning. It’s a saying in Scottish-Gaelic—my heritage—I’ve went back and forth on a nickname for you. Nothing fits. Last night, it slipped out. Then after it happened, I found I quite like it. Does it bother you?” he both informs and asks me.
“The jury’s still out. It is better than babe though. I’ll keep it for now. Unless we think of something better. Deal?” I offer.
“Deal.” He takes a drink of his coffee and relaxes back into the couch, his arm slyly creeping around my shoulders. “The fireworks show is tomorrow, and we’ll view it out on Lady Bird Lake. My friends are taking out their pontoon, and there’s plenty of space for you to accompany me. It’s the best place to view the show. Did you think of anything else to do for today?”
“Hm…Actually no, the bat bridge and fireworks are all I planned. Van was going to think of stuff to do as well until I kicked her off the trip. What’s something you like to do? Show me your favorite places in Austin,” I say.
Taking a few minutes, he ponders over my suggestion. I’m positive he’s thinking about some places we could visit for the day. He lifts his coffee to his incredibly sexy and kissable lips and drains his cup.
“Okay, we can do my Austin. Answer a few questions for me first…Do you like the strange and peculiar?”
“Yeah, I myself am a bit weird, it’d be a lie for me to say no,” I inform him.
“Weird is super, okay, got it. BBQ or Brewery?” he asks.
“Ask me later. Right now, because I haven’t eaten anything yet, I’d say BBQ. But my heart is screaming to say Brewery. How about we do one today, one tomorrow?” I suggest.
“Sounds great to me, mo ghaol. Would you like to know what I have in mind as soon as we put some food in your belly? Oh, wait, also one more question. Do you like dancing and do you also like watching old folks dance?”
The giggle-snort escaping my mouth cannot be attractive. I’ve seen one as it popped out of my mama’s mouth before. If it didn’t appear attractive coming from her, it surely doesn’t look nice coming from me.
“I’m sorry, the, uh…laugh thing couldn’t be helped. For your first one, yes, I’d like to know what you have in mind. Second one, yes and yes.”
“Tenley, trust me when I say you look attractive doing anything.” Bringing his hand up from my shoulder, he starts wistfully running his fingers through my hair. It feels amazing. “For the weirdness, I’m taking you to a store called Uncommon Objects, it’s packed with all sorts of old and strange objects. I love it, it’s one of my favorite places in the city.” While his fingers keep up their journey mapping out my hair, he continues telling me our plans for the day. “The BBQ or Brewery question was because I want to take you on a tour of both. Each tour lasts a solid chunk of time, which is why we can’t do both in one day. And as for the dancing old folks, we’re going to BROKEN SPOKE. It’s a place with lots of dancing and it’s frequented by our elderly.”
All of it sounds wonderful.
And expensive. At least the tours will be, the rest is free, I’m sure.
I have enough set aside, but my nest egg has been dwindling over the last couple of years. Keeping my mouth shut is the smart thing to do, I don’t want him thinking I’m cheap, but I am. Well, thrifty is more accurate. Although I do plan on taking this road trip a bit further. If it’s all okay with Dr. Beesley, I’ll be venturing on.
“Sounds like we have a deal, I say.
“Great, finish up your drink and let’s get you fed, mo ghaol.”
After a breakfast filled with the best breakfast tacos I’ve ever had and hash browns, the rest of our morning is spent wandering around Uncommon Objects. I’ve been consumed in a box of old photos for over an hour. Since it’s taken up a ton of my time and I’m barely through half of it, I decide to buy it. Maybe a story will come of staring at someone else’s old photographs.
Case finds me sitting on the floor, back against a wall of framed photos, with the box in my lap. I’m sifting through them as he approaches.
“There’s more treasures to be found—I’m positive there’s more photos, too—in the rest of the store. Have you moved since I left you?” h
e asks.
Shaking my head, I wordlessly hand him the box so I may stand and join him.
“I’m not exactly sure what it is about this box, but I have to buy them. They’re calling to me. And no, I haven’t moved. Please don’t make me see creepy old dolls. If we can bypass all of those, I’ll let you take me around the rest of the store.”
“Hmmm…avoid dolls. Anything else?”
“Clowns,” I confess.
“Clowns?” he questions. “Why clowns? Are you one of those people who hate clowns because Hollywood has made them scary or have you always hated clowns?” he asks.
“When I was young, six maybe, my parents took me to the circus. I desperately wanted to ride an elephant, I was obsessed with Dumbo and was convinced I was going to be meeting him. As we stood in line, a couple of clowns came over. One had pointy teeth. He smiled at me and handed me a plastic flower. He was nice but scared the crap out of me. It was those damn pointy teeth. He looked like he ate children for breakfast. Naturally, I started crying and insisted on going home. My dreams of Dumbo, crushed.”
The memory brings a frown to my face, and I swear I can feel my eyes shimmering with the memory. No, I don’t hate clowns from Hollywood’s depiction of them. I purely hate them because one scared me as a child.
“Okay, fear of clowns validated. Check. For the record, I don’t like them either, but mine is due to Hollywood’s version of them. One word…Pennywise. He forever ruined my childhood, and he’s continuing to wreak havoc on my adulthood as well. Although, I did like the remake and will admit to seeing the new movie more than once.”
“Movie? Pennywise?” I ask, because clearly I live under a rock.
“IT! by Stephen King. They originally made the book as a mini-series back when we were growing up. This past summer, they remade part of the book into a movie. The villain in IT! is Pennywise the dancing clown,” he informs me.
“Ah, I never watched it. Or read the book either,” I admit.
“The book is worth the read; the new movie is most definitely worth watching. The mini-series? If you were a hardcore King fan, yeah, you’d almost have to watch, but since you’re clearly not, I’d skip it.” Reaching down, he grabs my hand, his fingers twining with mine. “Come on, I have some more cool objects to show you.”
Over the next hour, he proceeds to lead me around the store showing me one strange thing after another. Besides the box of photos, I end up buying a collection of old books. Not for the titles mind you, but for the appearance of them. They’re all from the late 1800s and in pristine condition, the hardbacks vary in color from light turquoise to soft pinks to the deepest chestnut. The way they were displayed on a cabinet once used in a library as its card cataloging system screamed “buy me”. Case had to talk me out of buying the cabinet. The only reason I stopped was because I had no way to get it back to Alabama. If I lived closer, it would’ve been mine.
“Did you decide on the brewery or BBQ tour?” Case asks as we’re walking down the sidewalk away from the store, my treasures in bags at our sides.
“Brewery today, BBQ tomorrow.” Stopping mid-step, I turn to face him. “Thank you for today, Case. This is the happiest I’ve been in a long time. It’s hard to explain it but today with you I feel weightless. Like all of the heaviness of the past two years slips away and I’m free to be me again. The person I was becoming before love took over my life and I became part of a duo. It’s nice to meet her again. On the other hand, she wants to be with you. It’s all confusing but at the same time makes sense. I’m at peace. Here in Austin…with you,” I confess.
Placing his hand gently on my chin, he tilts my face up, his hungry gaze meeting mine. “Don’t question it, just let go. For the next few days be with me, Tenley. We’ll see where it all goes after.” His head shifts down, inside I’m pleading for him to kiss me. Kiss me, Case. Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me. Closing my eyes, I feel his warm breath on my skin and realize he’s placing a gentle kiss upon my forehead.
“Come on, mo ghaol, we have a tour to take of some of Austin’s greatest breweries—self-guided by yours truly, by the way. If we drink way too much, as we should, we can catch an Uber back to my place. More of Austin’s weirdness awaits, let’s go greet it,” he says while gently tugging on my hand, pulling me along to where his truck is parked further down the street.
All at once, without my knowing, the ice encasing my heart doesn’t crackle…it breaks.
As we’re nearing the bat bridge on the Segway tour, my stomach fills with jitters.
Why in the hell did I insist on seeing over two million bats?
It’s another sure sign I’m crazy.
“Tell me again why we’re doing this?” I ask Case.
“Because you practically insisted. Plus, it’s pretty cool and worth seeing. Trust me, mo ghaol, you’ll love it,” he replies.
The tour leader instructs us all to stop, saying this is one of the best places to view all the bats. I’m praying none came at me and get tangled up in my blonde hair. I read somewhere how bats are attracted to blondes. Strange thought to have run through my head at the moment, but it’s been in the forefront of my mind since we stepped on our Segways.
Case can see the worry etched all over my face. He takes my hand and squeezes, reassuring me he’s in this with me. Instantly, my fear takes a back seat. Just in time, too. Because a few bats are starting to make their way out from under the bridge.
“They’ll fly out for over an hour, it’s two million plus bats. They come out every night in the summer months to eat roughly thirty thousand pounds of insects…a night,” Case informs me while our tour guide stays silent. Shouldn’t this be a fact he tells the entire tour group?
My worries about one possibly flying into my hair were for naught. The bats fly high into the trees and higher still until they’ve formed a gigantic black circle in the air near all the downtown buildings before disappearing into the dark to gather their dinner. All before coming back to the bridge to do it all tomorrow night.
It’s spectacular.
And scary.
But one thing is for certain, I’m glad I did it.
The next morning, I wake with a major headache. Even the flutter of my eyelashes hurt, my tongue feels like I’ve eaten a handful of sand. What in the hell did I do last night? In a moment it all comes roaring back, like waves crashing on the shore.
Memory after memory.
Boom.
Boom.
Boom.
Case kissing my forehead.
The taste of the amber beer at the first brewery, and the third glass I drank going down smoother than the first.
The fifth brewery not wanting to allow me access to the tasting part of the tour because I was “light on my feet”. And Case insisting I try his sample of their newest wheat brew. The way his glass felt as he pressed it to my lips urging me to take a sip.
Our ordering pizza from the Uber, so it’d be delivered within minutes of our arrival to his place.
My stumbling into his building around 9 p.m. and greeting the doorman loudly and with a kiss on the cheek.
Eating a slice of pizza and regretting it as it came up before I reached the hallway bathroom.
Case holding my hair back as I was sick and offering me a new toothbrush and mouthwash before tucking me into his bed, solo.
It’s where I am now, his bed, still alone. With my thoughts slightly jumbled. Maybe after coffee I’ll feel more like myself. Sliding out of bed, I flip open the lid on my suitcase and gather some clothes for the day. Wait. How the hell did my luggage get here? Actually, where’s Case? His bedroom is loft-style and from his bed you can see the entirety of his apartment, he’s nowhere to be seen.
“Case?” I call out, knowing it will go unanswered.
Hm. How strange to wake in his apartment, alone, when I don’t remember pieces of the night before. Huge chunks of the night I’m positive he’ll be able to fill in for me. Pushing it aside, I make my way into the bathroom to get ready f
or the day.
His master bathroom is remarkable. The showerhead has twelve different settings and the floorboards are heated. A girl could get used to this luxury. Placing my clothes on the edge of the sink, I step into the shower to get lost in the steam. I’m about to turn on the faucet when I hear my name called out from down below.
“Um, I’m about to shower. I’ll be down in a few.” Hoping he heard me, I turn the knob and lose myself in the hot water flowing down my shoulders. This is heaven. I’m shampooing my hair with his woody citrus scented shampoo when I hear the door handle click.
Shit, I forgot to lock the door.
Not used to having to lock a door, I skipped over it when I walked inside. Then again, why would he feel free enough to walk inside? Have I given him any sign indicating I’m ready for more than simply holding hands or a kiss?
“Hey, mo ghaol, my eyes are closed, I promise. Your reply was muffled and I was checking on you, making sure you didn’t need anything,” he says.
“You swear on your life your eyes are closed?”
“Yes, I swear on my life. I wouldn’t break your trust. I’m only checking in, besides the door is only cracked and I’m standing on the other side.” Now, hearing him say it, his voice does sound a bit distant. “Now, answer me, do you need anything?”
“Nope.” The word pops from my mouth. It must be enough to appease him because a second after is passes from my lips, I hear the door click shut.
Foregoing conditioner, I make quick work taking the rest of my shower. I’m excited to get the day started despite having a killer headache. It’s nothing a stop or two by Starbucks won’t cure. Today is the Fourth of July, I have a BBQ tour and some fireworks to see. I’m not letting a stupid hangover rule my day.